


i like you and i loved him (we could all be the best kind of friends)

by mintpearlvoice



Category: Lucha Underground
Genre: Dream Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Tag, F/M, M/M, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M, non-traditional bdsm dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 20:03:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12196461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintpearlvoice/pseuds/mintpearlvoice
Summary: takes place during and after s1e35; after Son of Havoc's fight with Mil Muertes, Catrina seeks to tear apart the terrible trio by going after its weakest member. Instead, her actions only further unite them.





	i like you and i loved him (we could all be the best kind of friends)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DangerousCommieSubversive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/gifts).



> title is from dodie's song off her new EP, "In the Middle" about a girl having a threesome with her boyfriend & ex-boyfriend. it's PERF for this ship
> 
> also in my headcanon son of havoc's gang is like Bikers Against Child Abuse but with WRESTLING and GUNS and DRUG BUSTS and VIGILANTE JUSTICE.

  
“You're weak, Son of Havoc,” Catrina purred as she straddled his broken body, stroking her eldritch talisman with one perfectly manicured finger. “Even for a mortal... you are truly pathetic.” She leaned in close, getting ready to cement her victory. “The dominion of my disciples will be absolute at Ultima Lucha . I'll watch them rip the wings off your pretty little angel . And as for Ivelisse? She'll tear herself apart for me, body and soul. I won't even have to lift a finger.”  
Rage shot through his body, almost making up for his utter exhaustion. “You won't touch them. You bitch, I'll fucking kill you-“  
“What is already dead cannot be killed,” she purred.  
Her tongue was barbed, like a cat's, and oddly cold.  
_She's not even fucking human- none of them are-_  
At her gentle touch, the strength left his body. He felt like he'd been hit by mono and a Mack truck all at once. Absolute cold swept over him, and his vision blurred.  


The next thing he was aware of: Angelico leaning over him, concern in his absurdly blue eyes.  
“Hey, man- Havoc. Look at me. You hurt?”  
“Nothing broken.” _Should be able to walk out of here-_ but the moment he lifted his head, the ring spun. He fell back shivering, grateful for the mask. It meant none of the believers could see his pained grimace.  
Angelico patted him on the shoulder, his warm hand lingering an instant longer than Havoc had expected. (Seriously, though. Did he have any fucking idea how blue his eyes were ?)  
He just wanted to crawl home and curl up under a pile of blankets. "What's wrong with me?" Wrestling never took this much out of him.  
Angelico helped him to his feet. He was much stronger than he looked, supporting Havoc's weight when he staggered and stumbled. Together they made it out of the ring and into a back hallway.

After a few seconds of silence, Angelico launched into the obvious (not) conversation. “So, uh, Catrina might have sucked out a little of your soul."  
Halting footsteps. Ivie  caught up to them, cursing under her breath when her crutches caught on a loose piece of linoleum. As usual , her dark eyes blazed with fury. "She did what?"  
Catrina's handprint looked as if it had been  burned into her throat. The bruise was already a swollen, livid purple. Havoc couldn't shake the feeling that she'd left the mark there to taunt him: look at who you love. Look at how you failed to watch over her.   
Angelico scrambled to reassure them both. “Umm. Just a little bit of your soul, from what I’ve heard Melissa say. It'll grow back . You're just going to feel like day-old shit until it does. That's why the Disciples are so strong- she uses that stone to power them up with the strength of everyone Mil Muertes has defeated."  
Ivelisse swallowed, wincing at the motion. "I'm going to rip her face off and-" Her eyes widened as her voice choked off suddenly. With a muffled noise of pain, she tumbled forward, crutches falling as her hands flew to her throat.

“Hey! Fuck, what’s wrong?” Angelico yelled, instantly shifting into battle stance.

Ivie’s good leg thrashed. She tried to say something, but it just came out as a broken growl.

Angelico started yelling something else, but Son of Havoc was just watching and waiting. And then he saw the clue he’d been waiting for: Ivie’s hair moved, as if an invisible hand had pulled the strands taut. He glanced at Angelico: _you see that?_

It was as if his teammate could read his mind. At once Angelico jumped into action with a powerful kick. A body hit the floor with a thud, and Ivelisse fell back, gasping openly. Angelico dove  to tackle the invisible attacker, but he just hit the floor. Evidently, whatever magic had helped the Disciple of Death avoid detection had spirited him away.   
  
“Water,” Ivelisse rasped, fingers hovering over her bruises. She looked like she was about to cry.  
Havoc fumbled in his backpack, his muscles still infuriatingly slow to respond.  
Angelico already had his uncapped. “Here, take mine, it has electrolytes -“  
She grabbed for the bottle; instead Havoc tilted it to her lips. "There you go, baby girl." _I'm not going to let any of those skeleton fuckers_   _lay a bone finger on you,_ he wanted to say. But he couldn't promise that. He didn't even know if she'd want him to.  
She swallowed a few times, then pushed the bottle away. "Don't call me that." Her voice, still raspy, was filled with rage.  
  


Once, in a bar in the Midwest, this  old hunter had told Havoc a story about this local bobcat who’d stepped in a trap. Some locals had been worried about it and tried to help it. But every time they came near, it hissed and growled, even ripping off chunks of their flesh with its powerful teeth. It wouldn’t let anyone close enough to help- trusting humans was anathema to its very nature. So it just… wasted away. Eventually they’d shot it to end its suffering .   
Whenever he thought of Ivie, he thought of that cat.

“Well, we’re fucking screwed,” Angelico said with sarcastic cheer. “I mean, we know they can teleport, turn invisible, control light- Catrina can just fucking show up and lick people...” He shuddered, rubbing his face as if to erase the eerie feeling of her inhuman tongue.  
“She has every reason to make sure we can give her a fair fight.” Ivie said, grabbing her crutches and hauling herself up. Her voice oozed brutal sarcasm.  
Son of Havoc shook his head. He wasn’t willing to go down that easily. "I say we stick together and we sleep in shifts. Somewhere with a decent security system, and eat prepackaged food she can't poison as easily."  
Ivelisse raised an eyebrow. "That's actually a decently intelligent idea. I'm almost impressed. But staying in a hotel for weeks on end? I don’t think so."

"We're going back to my house."  
"You have a house ?"  
_Yes, because I’m a financially mature fucking adult_   _who invests his paychecks._ "Ivie, no offense, but that tiny apartment of yours is good for only one thing, and that's having sex on the furniture. Angelico, I don't trust any of those shady motherfuckers you sublet from. Any one of them could be bribed to spy for Catrina."  
Ivelisse, struggling to her feet, shot him a dirty look. “How come you never invited me over when we were dating?”  
He shrugged, faking nonchalance. “You never asked.”  
_Because if I saw you in my bed, I never would have wanted to let you leave. We’d agreed it was just sex and the ring, after all. You would have freaked the moment I said I wanted more._  
And did Angelico sleep shirtless? Fuck, he did everything else shirtless. Showing off his pale skin and pretty freckles carelessly to the world.  
_Think with your strategic brain, not with your dick._  
Still, in terms of strategy, there were worse plans than bringing his team to his house .

 

 

Within minutes, they both made themselves at home.

“Mind if I cook something?” Angelico asked. He didn’t even wait for an answer before he started unloading his duffle bag, going through cabinets, and turning on the stove.  
Ivie had taken her pain meds and fallen asleep on the couch the second they’d walked in the door. She didn’t usually take them, preferring to struggle through the agony and have slightly quicker reflexes- even if that meant she never actually slept. What other explanation was there for all those times she blew up his phone at three in the morning? Son of Havoc debated sitting next to her, but he settled for idly flipping channels while standing.  
“You're going to need to eat something. I'd recommend protein,” Angelico said. “I found some curry powder in your cabinets, so I’m going to make bobotie . It’s this spiced meat that’s simmered and then baked. Trust me, you’ll love my mom’s recipe.”  
“Does that have special soul-growing powers or something?” Son of Havoc joked.  
He chuckled. “Muscle-growing powers, too. Not that, uh, you need any help in. That area .” He ran a hand through his hair, a blush spreading over his fair skin. "Sorry, I'm... kind of awkward."

"Nothing wrong with that." He liked seeing Angelico flustered. Liked how easily Ivie could fluster him, too. Take him from zero to helplessly aroused with just one powerful chokehold or slap. It was a hell of a good look on him; the deep flush over his constellations of trailing freckles, his goofy smile and half-lidded eyes...  


That was when Ivie shrieked herself awake, forcing the hoarse cries through her battered throat. He and Angelico practically fell over each other in their hurry to rush to her side.

“Hey! Fuck, look at me. Is it that skeleton bitch? Because Melissa said this place had some spells cast on it, that it was safe. She shouldn’t be able to get in here.”

Mingled fear and hatred seethed in her night-dark eyes.  Leaning on the arm of the couch, she pushed them both away and hauled herself to her feet. She was determined to get to her crutches, even though they were on the coffee table and every step made her wince. “I have to go.”

Angelico’s what-the-fuck expression looked exactly how Havoc felt.

“Woah, woah, hold up. What’s the rush?” The air conditioning was down low this late in the fall, but a cold wind still blew. There was something eerie about the smell of the air. He felt strange. Uncertain.

“I heard you talking about me. You said I was weak, bossy, useless. Annoying. That you both hated me.” She smacked towards his torso with a crutch; she was still too out of it to put much power into the blow, but it still stung, especially since he was already off-balance. “You just think I’m dragging the team down!” She continued to push them back, lashing out with her fists and words.

The wounded animal, caught in a trap.

“I need to go- I can’t trust you- can’t trust either of you-“ Angelico  tried to grab her arm, and she yanked away.

_She’ll tear herself apart for me, body and soul…  Hell no, Catrina,_ he thought. _You don’t get this one. You don’t get either of them._ It was as if the cold graveyard fog had just fallen from his mind. His body felt like it belonged to him again; he lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders.  “Look at me. What’s the last thing you remember before hearing that?”

Uncertainty crossed her face. “I… I don’t know.” Her expression was oddly blank for a moment before the rage took its place. “But it doesn’t matter, okay? Just let me go. I heard you saying you’re going to hand me over to her to save your own skins. Do you know how cold her hands are? It’s like being shoved out into the snow... like being alone.”

“You’re stronger than she is, Ivelisse. Show me who’s the baddest bitch in the building. Take a second and think.”

“I came into the apartment.” Her words came out haltingly. “I put my backpack by the door, I took my shoes off…” Blankness and fury once again. “What are we even talking about? This is stupid. I want to leave.”

“Fight through it, Ivie,” Angelico said as he moved closer, his gaze never leaving hers . “Show me how tough you are.”

She scowled, but squared her shoulders. “I put my crutches down and went over to the couch. Then I sat down and I…” Realization spread over her. “I fell asleep.” Shaking =her head, she turned away from the door. “I was asleep that whole time… fuck. That bitch was in my head… in my dreams. I’m never going to be fucking safe!”  
Ivelisse was about to collapse onto the couch, worn out from the sudden loss of her anger. Instead, Son of Havoc caught her, renewed strength pulsing through his body. The heat of her breath chased away any lingering cold.   
The smell of her felt like home. Cheap mall perfume and Lip Smackers, habits she'd taken from the abject poverty and rootlessness of her childhood. And under that, the rich, undefinable scent of her strength.  
“Ivie, listen to me. Fuck whatever Catrina said about your leg, whatever she made you think we said. We're not going to abandon you. Dario would never have given us the opportunity to fight as a trio if it wasn't for your mic skills... your matches with Angelico. You're our training planner. Our strategic mind. Yeah, I'll admit it- you're our fucking team captain.”  
She smiled; pale and shaky, but still a smile. “Hell yeah, I'm in charge. When we win, it's because you listen to me. And you two are damn good at following orders.” When they sat down, she came with them, stretching regally over both their laps. Son of Havoc resisted the impulse to touch her hair.   
“Anything that inhuman monster says is bullshit,” Angelico agreed. “We won't let her hurt you, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m getting up to check the oven, but I’ll be right back.”  
Still dazed from pain and nightmares, the medication clouding her thoughts, Ivelisse seemed oddly vulnerable. For a moment, Son of Havoc thought he even saw her blink back tears. “You really mean that, don't you? Fucking weirdos. Never heard anyone say that and mean it. Not to me…”  
“We’re sticking around. Get used to it.”  
“Yeah, well… just don't be too annoying. And listen to me when I tell you shit like... you're overtraining, and you've been skipping leg day. I see everything.”  
Angelico, coming back from the stove, chuckled. “That’s good. Now sit up and get some calories in.”

“I'm not going to eat anything I don't recognize,” Ivie grumbled- but when she smelled it, her apprehension seemed to melt away at once. She ate the hot meat dish quickly, as if she needed it to keep warm. Son of Havoc thought he felt her shivering. He wanted to tell her that the agony would pass, that she’d feel warm again, but he knew how much she hated being coddled. Instead he just pulled a blanket from the back of the couch over her as she finished eating.

She made a self-satisfied little noise, shifting more of her weight onto their laps as she closed her eyes. “Love you so much. Fuck, both of you.”  
Havoc was the only one who heard her barely audible words as she slipped into sleep. Had she even spoken? Feelings were complicated, and right now his life was complicated enough.

He moved just enough to keep his thighs from going numb under the weight of her head. “Well, so clearly we're stuck on this couch for at least the next couple hours.”  
“She doesn't like being woken up, huh.”  
_Something like that._  
Ivie had the kind of batshit insane _don't touch me while I'm sleeping_ reflexes he was used to seeing in the human trafficking victims his gang rescued. Sometimes she woke up shrieking hysterically even without Catrina's help. Something had made her the way she was; constantly suspicious, always needing to push people away before they hurt her, and someday he'd get close enough to figure out what.  
"You wanna watch a movie?" he asked.  
Angelico nodded, stretching out his long, toned legs. "What's on?"  
"We'll find something. Action, aliens, explosions... you up for that?"  
“Always.”  
  
A few hours and a couple more plates of food later, they’d fallen asleep in the living room , letting Ivie take the couch so they wouldn’t have to move her; Angelico was splayed out on the air mattress, and Havoc had rolled out a sleeping bag.

It was totally platonic and logical for them all to sleep in the same room, he’d assured himself. No ulterior motives here. Nope McNope.

Except he’d stayed awake for a while after Angelico fell asleep, just watching him. Watching them both. The shadows that Angelico’s long eyelashes cast on his pale skin. The way he stretched out so carelessly, as if posing for some lucky sculptor.

And Ivelisse. Sleeping in his home, as if she’d admitted that she belonged here; her breathing deep and even, as if she knew she was safe. Her dark hair spilled like loose silk over one bare shoulder.

He wasn’t going to so much as think about having sex with either of them. They were a team, and a team stuck together. That was all.

Except his dreams had other ideas.

Ivie riding his face, soaking his beard with the taste of her. Treating him like he was just the object she used to satisfy her lusts, only letting him breathe because he’d pass out if he couldn’t.

Angelico on his cock, moving with the same self-satisfied grace he always had. The same inherent knowledge of his beautiful, perfect body. Knowing exactly what he wanted, his long fingers digging into Son of Havoc’s thighs to help him stay balanced.

Or: Ivie telling Angelico he couldn’t come, and then teasingly ordering Son of Havoc to suck the long curve of his cock until he came anyway.   
That headspace where _why the fuck am I into this_ just melted into _fuck, I’m into this._

Or: Ivie wielding that enormous bright purple silicone dildo he’d seen in her closet once, but never been able to get up the confidence to ask about. She was born to claim whatever she wanted… to claim him.

Or: Angelico’s long, gorgeous body just pinning him down. He’d look all pink and smug afterwards, too.

Son of Havoc twisted in his sleeping bag and came, hard, without waking up.

Several neighborhoods away, in an underground mausoleum lit only by bioluminescent fungus and the souls of the dead  , Catrina scowled into her star garnet gazing ball. She’d hoped to gain more insight into Son of Havoc by prowling through his dreams. Instead, she understood even less.   
_He's not even rutting with her anymore, and he'd still die for her. He'd willingly allow the other male to assume a position of superiority over him during sex._ What was wrong with this human?  
The carnal act was one of the first facets of incarnation she'd learned how to weaponize. A simple transaction where she held the power. Lust distracted people... weakened them. Even the veteran announcers could be stunned by a glimpse of this mortal body's lush childbearing figure. Her champions were vulnerable to her charms as well. She could persuade Mil Muertes into anything by hinting at swallowing his musky human genitalia, and her Disciples of Death were generally former humans that she'd seduced and killed.  
But this Son of Havoc, this motorcycle rider...why did he have such fantasies? What would he gain from allowing two physically weaker people to use his body in such an undignified way? With a growl of inhuman fury, Catrina draped a mourning  veil over her gazing ball, extinguishing the sordid, pointless dream-scene.   
She was wise. She was ancient. And no mortal, no matter how wily, had ever thwarted her centuries-in-the-making schemes.  
She'd figure them out. Everything she didn't understand would be laid bare to her.  
And then she'd destroy them... all three of them. Unlike Mil Muertes, they would forever remain in their graves.

 


End file.
